Jared Carter Poetry
Laodamia to Protesilaus
If you were lost, how would I find you, what path take along dark streets, through damp vaults, how untangle those choices far underground, those myriad voices? If I were gone, you could no longer follow through great spillways, or deep hollows. In that world, my footsteps would fade, there would be no echo, no light or shade. Still, somewhere your presence ahead would call, through realms of the dead, through time imploded and turned back, platform deserted, abandoned track. No pause in this long pursuit, this seeking that has no end. Neither of us speaking, or able to break the spell—neither chase nor surrender. Only the lost, familiar face.
from The Raintown Review [credits]